


Combat Classes

by Anarchyinplasma



Category: RWBY
Genre: But then I don't much care for Sun, F/F, Short, Violent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 15:43:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8333239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarchyinplasma/pseuds/Anarchyinplasma
Summary: Yang gets tired of Sun hitting on Blake.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Heya. Nothing special, let me know if you guys like it.
> 
> EDIT: Holy hell 500 hits in less than 2 days. Goddamn.
> 
> EDIT 2: As of December 28th 2016, this is my first story to garner 1,000 hits, and all I really have to say is a massive thank you to everyone who read. This is a milestone I didn't think I'd hit for a long time yet, so thanks for making it happen.

“Hey Blakey, can you pass the salt?” Blake slid the salt across the table, brushing Yang's fingers as she did so and smiling at the contact. She wasn't ready to go public, despite her brawler’s insistence that a year and a half was more than enough time, but she’d take what she could get. Sadly, it did lead to some less than fun situations. Like the one she had just spotted walking towards her.

Sun was consistently hitting on her, despite flat out rejections, a few threats, and both Blake and Yang brutally beating the stupid out of him in combat classes, Neptune too, had consistently been assuming Weiss liked him until Ruby put him through a wall with an unmistakable  
“She's taken.”

The monkey sat on the bench next to her, practically draping himself on her arm as she pulled away, Blake sent a concerned glance at Yang, noticing the blonde’s trigger fingers start to twitch of their own accord. A short sharp tapping started up as Weiss drummed impatiently on the table, clearly annoyed at the interruption and hoping to clear the issue before Yang decided that Ozpin needed to find the budget to rebuild the cafeteria. Again.

“Don't you have somewhere else to be, Sun?” The heiress asked, injecting enough venom into the name to make hardened CEOs quail under Schnee superiority. Unfortunately, her tactic did not work, as that would require the faunus to be paying any attention to her whatsoever. Instead, he muttered a half reply, and attempted to turn his charm on at Blake. Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose as Yang almost gave up on the struggle to keep her aura in check.

Weiss nudged her teammate, and then injected an elbow into her ribs when that didn't work.  
“Yang, please, don't react, for the sake of Blake's sanity and the sake of my dry cleaning, please, do not hold him down and rearrange his facial features with a pneumatic drill.” The fork in Yang's iron grip started to liquefy under the extreme heat as the brawler attempted to channel out her excess aggression on something other than the surrounding area.

As if by the grace of God (or, more likely, Ozpin), a blaring tannoy announced the start of the next period of class. Blake swiftly stood and made her way to professor Goodwitch’s arena for combat class. From the door, the on duty teacher (by happy coincidence, Glynda Goodwitch) watched in mild concern as one of her best students caused the flowers on the nearby windowsill to wilt from severe heat as she stalked past. Thinking back to her own academy days, she formulated a basic plan.

\---

“Alright” she announced to the gathered class. “Today's combat participants will be Mr. Wukong and Miss. Xiao Long.” Sun sauntered down the stairs in usual relaxed posture, and took his place dutifully. Yang let her aura blaze her footsteps in a carpet of ember flame as she descended the steps hungry for battle. Both participants took their places and Glynda began a countdown.  
“Three… two… one...” out of the corner of her eye, Glynda saw the predatory glint of Yang's feral grin and noticed the smouldering silhouettes of her footsteps. ‘Ah’ she thought, taking a step backwards; 'I may have made a terrible mistake’. “Go”; she announced anyway, with a mental shrug off ‘what's the worst that could happen?’

As soon as the word was given, Yang barged forwards with a flurry of high damage attacks, coating each gauntleted fist in a cocoon of searing heat. As the infamous “gun-chucks” were brought up to block, the paint stripped and boiled from the frames on contact. Glynda stepped around the edge of the arena and made her way to Ruby Rose’s seat.  
“Miss Rose,” she began quietly, “what observations do you make about your teammate's fighting this match?”

Ruby turned to the fight, processing the question.  
“Sis is really going all out.” She started, following the laser fast punches with a trained eye. “Her aura usage is immediate, she wants to start a feedback loop with her semblance immediately by allowing her aura to do mild tissue damage to herself, it's complete overkill.” Glynda commended the young girl in her observation, it was very difficult to notice the rapidly heading burns on Yang's hands, but the particular technique was one she had seen Miss. Xiao Long’s father use and develop, so she knew where to look.

In the arena, Yang connected a punch, and a follow-up slug slammed into her opponent's aura as the shotgun on her gauntlets engaged. Sun doubled over, blistered skin spreading from the impact point on his abdomen as the heat washed across his skin. He straightened up and was a hair too slow to block Yang's next punch.

A series of crunches echoed across the room as the fist connected with his jaw, the first and second crunches were his jaw bone splintering in one place and messily shearing in another. The third crunch was the knockback force putting him straight through the concrete wall and into the first row of seating.

Glynda sighed, at least it wasn't the history room. She doubted Bartholomew would be best pleased. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she asked the nearest students to the impact to take the injured student to the hospital wing for some medical attention.

“Well done Miss. Xiao Long.” She addressed the victor. Before glancing at the clock and realising she couldn't be bothered to teach another forty minutes of class. “Class dismissed.” She instructed. Before busying herself with cleanup.

Bonus:  
“Neptune, I’m gonna be honest, you need to stop flirting with Weiss.”  
“Why Blake?” The poor deluded fool asked while tending to his ridiculous hair. Blake sighed.  
“Because Ruby likes her.” Neptune snorted.  
“What’s she gonna do? Put me in a body bag?” He laughed. Blake buffed her nails on her shoulder while replying.  
“No, she wouldn’t. There’d be far too many pieces for that.”


End file.
